


Birthday Games

by The_White_Rabbit42



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drinking Games, F/M, Fingering, Grace Kink, Intoxication, Multiple Orgasms, Stripping, oral sex (female receiving), perfect body Gabriel, touch of possessive Gabriel, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 10:16:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10739655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_White_Rabbit42/pseuds/The_White_Rabbit42
Summary: You try to get Gabriel to play some drinking games for your birthday but your night doesn't go as expected.





	Birthday Games

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @bloodstain-porcelain-doll's challenge on tumblr. 
> 
> Prompts: "Loser does a striptease!", Gabriel, Smut

 

“How is this supposed to be celebrating again?” Gabriel asked.  

 

Sam and Dean had forgotten it was your birthday  _ again _ , heading in the opposite direction to visit Garth rather than returning from their latest hunt to celebrate.  As unashamed as you were about your drinking habits, you drew the line at getting drunk by yourself.  Doing it with a bunch of strangers wasn’t appealing either, which left your options pretty limited until Gabriel happened to pop in to drop off some birthday cookies.  

 

It had been a pleasant surprise to say the least, and once he was there you weren’t about to let the opportunity go to waste.

 

“I like drinking games,” you reminded him, your words taking on the slow drawl you got right before you hit the tipping point between tipsy and completely hammered. 

 

“Ok,  _ princess _ ,” sarcasm rippled through tonight’s nickname he’d bestowed upon you, all because you insisted on having fun  _ your  _ way, “But these are all boring.”

 

One hand came up, toying with the neon pink umbrella decorating his glass, but it was the other hand out of your sight that had you worried.  You could feel the hum of his energy rise behind you, fingertips drifting idly across the top of your chair, brushing you in the process.  

 

You were vaguely aware it probably wasn’t the best idea to ask an archangel to get drunk with you.  There was that whole piece about absolute beings probably needing to be in control of themselves for the sake of entire regions.  Yet, you had found the problem wasn’t so much him ripping accidental holes in time or space so much as he became a damn handsy drunk.  

 

“When do we get to the good ones?”  He stared at you a moment, brow quirking up as he gave you an odd look.  He’d been doing that a lot lately, too.  Like the touches, you brushed it off as his inebriated alter ego simply making an appearance.    

 

Considering these were the good games, however, you were at a loss how to respond.  It was hard enough to find some that worked with only two people, let alone ones that might keep someone like Gabriel entertained.  On a good day, he seemed only able to tolerate an hour or two of your “mundane” activities before either getting into mischief or disappearing entirely.  You had hoped to get him to stick around for a little longer than that, especially since without him, you were looking at a rather lonely evening.  

 

Keeping him around, however, was involving way more thinking and dodging than you had anticipated.  

 

You leaned forward onto your elbows casually moving out of his range.  You didn’t want to give him the chance to become too brazen, not when it was becoming increasingly harder to ignore the flutter he brought to your stomach.  You wracked your brain, trying to come up with a solution, only to find yourself frustrated and in need of a refill.  

 

Maybe that was it.  Maybe you needed to be the one drinking and not the one trying to make the plans.

 

“Like?” You asked, tossing the ball back into his court as you slid your glass in front of him.  He ignored it for a moment and focused on making a show of looking thoughtful.  His lips pursed, eyes drifting upward as his fingers idly gave that umbrella another twirl.  

 

“Well, there’s pin the tail on the minotaur,” he began, his eyes taking on a faraway look. 

 

There was  _ what _ ?

 

“But that one tends to get a bit messy since it's more about who still has the most limbs by the end,” he added.

 

Yeah, you liked your arms right where they were, thanks.  Your incredulity must have shown by the amused way he smirked.  

 

“Odds or evens might be a better choice,” he suggested and while that didn’t sound as life-threatening, the way his grin widened left you extremely wary.  “Though I’m not quite sure where we’d find a hydra these days…”

 

Was he messing with you?  He had to be.  There was no way those were real.  

 

“My personal favorite was seeing who could collect the most kisses from the wood nymphs.”  

 

Nope.  Definitely not joking by that twinkle in his eyes that spoke more of fond remembrance than mischief.  You were going to need a moment to process the fact that all these things actually existed.  

 

He must have sensed it by the way he pushed your now full glass back in front of you.  He used the motion as an excuse to subtly shift himself closer, arm draping across the back of your chair.  The air between you became a little more energized, your body hyperaware of his proximity in a way that had color splashing across cheeks.  Thankfully, it most likely had already melded with the flush created by the alcohol.

 

“Gabe, I’m human,” you reminded him before you took a long pull through the ridiculous bright, purple crown-shaped straw he insisted you use.  The flavor of your favorite drink danced over your tongue and while you could have been imagining it, it appeared the more you drank, the smoother they became.   

 

“That’s the beauty of nymphs, sugar.  You could be a centaur and they’d still put out, provided you played your cards right.”  He waggled his brows, mirth dancing across his lips as you nearly choked on your drink.  

 

Jesus, just how many things were out there you didn’t know about?

 

“Not my point,” you told him, deciding you really didn’t want to know.  Besides, you were a touch unnerved at having to remind him how far less durable you were considering how many times you relied on him for backup.  

 

“I’d love to avoid any accidental death or dismemberment tonight.”   _ Ever _ .  Not to mention the potential for interspecies STDs.  He snorted.  

 

“You’re just sore you have yet to win at anything yet,” he taunted, waving his finger dramatically in front of your face.  You grabbed for it, surprised when he wasn’t able to yank it away before you playfully pushed it back at him.  His elbow connected with his glass, sending the contents sloshing over the side onto the table.

 

“Party foul. Now you have to finish it,” you tsked.  He shrugged, pulling out the umbrella and giving it a toss before he smoothly downed the contents.  By the time he set it back down on the table, it was full again.  Before tonight, you hadn’t realized that his trademark snap was really just a courtesy, one he forgot increasingly about as his inebriated state progressed.    

 

“How much alcohol did you say was in one of those?” You inquired.

 

“Mmm, twenty-four of those,” he said, inclining his drink toward yours.  “Or was it forty-two?”  He shrugged, taking another sip.  “So, what are we playing now?”

 

“I was thinking --”

 

“Boooooooring,” he drawled, eyes rolling up to the ceiling.  

 

“But I didn't even --”

 

“Don’t need to, sugar plum, because drunk you?  Total projector,” he informed you, index finger swirling in circles in front of your forehead before he gave it a less than gentle tap that had your head bobbing backwards.  “Not only do I know what game you were about to say, I know the other three you had as backups, none of which are any better.”

 

Projecting? Did - did that mean --

 

“Ye _ p _ ,” he said, lips dramatically popping the p.  “The moment a thought hits your mind, I hear it.  Loudly, might I add, though that might also have to do with drunk  _ me _ being a receiver.”

 

Great.  So drinking handed your thoughts a megaphone and gave him magical hearing aids.  

 

“Pretty much,” he confirmed.   

 

Well that took two truths and a lie right off the list.  

 

“Truth or dare could still be interesting,” he said, brows bouncing playfully.  He gave you a wicked look you didn’t trust.  Mostly because you knew anything carnal was an act, and more than likely would just drive you insane for his own amusement.

 

You missed the way something shifted in his gaze, too engrossed in your task of, yet again, finding something to play.  You grimaced.  What was even left?

 

“I’ve got something,” he said, features brightening.  “And in the spirit of having fun, let’s make the stakes a little more interesting.”

 

Before you could even ask, Gabriel had jumped up and was halfway out the door.  

 

“Loser does a striptease!” His voice echoed from down the hall.  

 

Wait, what?  Where had  _ that _ come from?  More importantly, what were you --

 

Loud hissing from behind you had you rocketing out of your chair and spinning around.  Your eyes widened at what looked like… well you didn’t know what the hell it was other than a whole lot of  _ nothing good _ .  It appeared to be half-snake, half-fish.  Prismatic scales adorned its lower body, though their beauty was overshadowed by how confusing the rest of it was.  It’s bottom tapered off into a slithering tail but it’s upper half was a combination of flaring gills, spiky dorsal fins, and, surprisingly enough, arms and hands equipped with opposable thumbs.  

 

What  _ really _ had your attention was the deadly looking trident it held that was at least your height, if not larger.  

 

A loud whoop went off from somewhere across the bunker followed by a, “Got one!”

 

You didn’t even have time to figure out what  _ one  _ was before you were throwing yourself across the room in an attempt to avoid being skewered.  

 

It went for you again and you managed to dodge at the last moment.  The wall, however, remained pretty stationary and you watched as a large chunk of plaster crumbled beneath metal. 

 

Shit.  Dean was going to  _ kill _ you.  

 

“Gabriel!” You shouted, unsure if you were more angry at the moment or fearful, considering you hadn’t a single weapon within reach, and the beast was smart enough to have backed you into a corner and blocked your escape.

 

The fish-a-majig swung low, pulling your legs out from beneath you and sending you sprawling across the floor.  Oh fucking Chuck, this was it.  You were going out of this world on the date you came into it all because someone was a little  _ bored _ .  

 

_ GabrielGabrielGabrielGabrielGabriel-- _

 

You flinched, hands raised defensively over your head, as sharp points speared down at your chest.  Instead of the lancing pain you expected, however, there was simply silence.  You lowered your arms, opening your eyes cautiously to find a familiar figure lounging in the doorway.  

 

Gabriel took a bite of a cookie, munching carelessly away as if you hadn’t just been moments away from death.

 

“What the  _ hell  _ was that?!” You demanded, sitting up so fast the world grew dark around the borders as blood rushed straight to your head.  

 

“An abyssal,” he said as if it were the most natural concept in the world.

 

You blinked, waiting for everything to come back into focus.  “A  _ what _ ?”

 

“You’re supposed to collect its scales,” he explained, exasperation flattening his tone. He pulled his other hand out from behind him to reveal three large scales nearly the size of his palm.  They were more striking than you originally thought;  waves of iridescence caught the light, reflecting back with different hues of blue that blurred to vivid violets.  You might have taken a moment to appreciate them if you weren’t so pissed about almost being turned into a shish-kabob.  

 

“Looks like I win again,” that condescending smile made an appearance, painting words triumphant to the point of nearly gloating.  “So, where do I get my show?”

 

You cocked a brow at him.  Yeah.  That wasn’t happening.  It was your damn birthday.  If anything, someone should be stripping for  _ you _ .

 

Something sparked within honeyed hues, something that went beyond the run of the mill mischief and mayhem.  Your eyes widened when you remembered he could hear everything running through your mind.  

 

“Wait, I didn’t --”

 

Music suddenly filled the room and his brows gave a little flare.

 

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.  He couldn’t - he was joking right?

 

“Gabriel, no,” you warned, waving a wholly stern finger at him.  To do what, you had no idea, you only knew you needed to show him how serious you were that this was  _ not  _ happening.  

 

His head tilted down slightly, lips curling up on one side as he gave you  _ the  _ look, the one that told you things weren’t about to go from bad to worse anymore because there was no scale to measure what he was about to do.  

 

“Gabriel,  _ yes _ ,” a sultry lilt entered his tone as his body began to sway to the beat.  

 

Jesus fucking Christ.  He  _ was  _ serious.  

 

“Have a seat, sweetheart, show’s about to begin.”  He waved you away with his hand and as you lost your footing, you fully expected your ass to, once again, end up on top of hard tile.  What you dropped onto, however, was surprisingly soft.  You blinked, the kitchen suddenly replaced by darkness, furthering your confusion.  

 

Your hands roamed across the cool padded surface beneath you, trying to glean a hint of your location.  It wasn't until a myriad of colors flared to life from the ceiling, sensual reds, blues, and purples flooding the area that you realized just where he had taken you.

 

Oh merciful Chuck.  You were in your room.  On your bed.  And there was an archangel gearing up to give you a striptease less than five feet away.  

 

There was no lore book in existence that even touched what you were supposed to do in this situation.

 

“My advice?  Relax.  Who knows.  You might even enjoy it,”  He suggested with a wink.  

 

Panic flooded you at his response.  Shit.   _ Shit _ .  Not only was this happening but he was going to hear every single thought that crossed your mind during it.  You could probably live down his knowing you found him attractive, but the  _ rest  _ of what you felt?  That was liable to bury you.  

 

Maybe he was right.  Maybe you should enjoy the show, because if you were busy enough thinking about his body maybe it would drown out what he really meant to you.  

 

Like you stood a chance at thinking of anything else, anyway.

 

The music soared and you watched as Gabriel walked to the far wall, palm splaying flat above his head as he braced himself against it.  He began a slow, sensual roll that started in his hips before rippling upward through his torso and out his shoulders.  The lithe way his body moved had the air stilling in your lungs and it wasn’t long before your heart outpaced the steady tempo of the song.  

 

Part of you had hoped he might make a mockery of this, the way he did with just about everything, but as he cast a glance over his shoulder there was nothing but wickedness and a self-conceited smirk bordering on hubris.

 

That’s when you knew how much trouble you were really in.  

 

He didn’t even give you time to ease into it.  Oh no.  One more roll of his hips and he spun, his hands gripping the edge of his collar before ripping the buttons down the front of his shirt.  He strode forward and your bed gave a sudden lurch, dropping closer to the ground as he approached.  

 

He slipped his shirt down his back, showing off a set of well toned shoulders and arms that had the darks of your eyes widening as you realized this was the most skin you’d ever seen from him before.  He swung the article around, hooking it behind your back and using it to draw you closer before he repeated that smooth rolling motion. 

 

Oh Chuck.  You weren’t going to make it.  You thought that of all things, Gabriel embodied chaos and mischief.  Right now, he was everything decadent from the sultry way he moved, to the way heat rolled off that perfect body, to the smell of him that was an unfamiliar and yet intoxicating combination, almost like --

 

_ I like sex and candy, yeah… _

 

The lyrics edged in on the fringe of awareness and your eyes widened, the proverbial deer in headlights as you recognized exactly what that aroma was.  

 

_ Who’s that lounging in my chair… _

 

He grabbed the hem of his undershirt, drawing it up sensually along his stomach before ripping it over his head and he jumped up onto the bed, knees landing on either side of you.  

 

Oh sweet jesus, he had washboard abs.  And his chest - he all but had it pressed against your face.  This was completely and utterly unfair.  Of him for picking the vessel he had and tormenting you with it.  Of the universe for putting you in this position.  Of him being on a short list of untouchable beings, because why would an archangel ever be interested in you?

 

He reached forward, fingers caressing the side of your face before dipping beneath your chin, forcing your gaze up to meet him.  He held your stare intently, your mind slipping further from your grasp as you began to drift away in liquid amber.  

 

_ Who’s that casting devious stares in my direction _

_ Mama this surely is a dream _

 

He eased back off the bed, body pivoting until his back was to you before giving a slow, sensual roll of his hips. This was it.  You were going to combust.  Everything on him was all hard planes and lean angles front to back with no exceptions and you wondered what it would feel like to smooth your hands over all of it, to taste along all the dips and edges, to watch them dance beneath your fingertips as you tortured him with teeth and tongue before showing him exactly what your lips could do.  

 

You imagined it would be a divine moment right before your heart gave out.  

 

Correction, it was going to give out before then because the way his hands were moving he was  _ definitely  _ going for his pants. He looked back over his shoulder, leveling a devious smirk your way as as his thumbs hooked beneath the band of his jeans, sliding along the edge until they reached each side of his hips.  He bent slightly, ass jutting out as he teased denim down inch by agonizingly slow inch.  Heat soared through your entire system, splashing across cheeks in a furious red, though you suspected that flush continued straight down to your toes.

 

Oh shit.   _ Fuck _ .  If those came off it was game over.  There were sparks shooting off across your system as it was and you did  _ not  _ need those turning into fireworks.  Your hands gripped your thighs, your skin searing through your pants as you dug your fingers in hard.  You forced yourself to focus on your breaths, giving a slow count as you took in what little air was left in the room before giving a long exhale.

 

Sweet fucking Chuck!  How were you ever going to look at him after this?  

 

The answer was you  _ weren’t _ .  If him dropping those pants didn't do you in the burgundy silk peeking out beneath them  _ would _ .  All you could imagine was how sensuous that would feel beneath your touch, your fingers testing just how firm the rest of him was and perhaps helping him grow hard _ er _ .  Would they whisper when they fell to the floor, you wondered, or would you be unable to resist seeing if they sounded any different than cotton when ripping?

 

As sanity and denim hung precariously in the balance, you suddenly knew, without a doubt, what you wanted for your birthday. 

 

The music suddenly stopped.  At least it seemed sudden.  The song had probably come to its natural end, and you were too distracted to notice.  

 

The silence was deafening, heady, and time seemed to grow a little weighted, stretching out beneath your nervous anticipation of what happened now.  Gabriel stood there a moment, his shoulders rising and falling at an uneven pace before before he cast a sideways glance at you over his shoulder.  

 

Your stomach fluttered as he finally turned, those fine muscles returning to view and distracting you from the look on his face.  

 

“You look like you could use something to help cool you down.”  A glass appeared in his hand and he held it up for you.  You were too busy trying  _ not  _ to stare at the way his pants were still open, giving you a good eyeful of how his hips had that ‘v’ that drove you insane.  

 

You dragged your eyes to the glass, unable to meet his gaze as you accepted it.  It was one thing for him to know what he was doing to you and another to have to acknowledge it to him.  

 

The weight in your hand was grounding as was the change in temperature from your thigh.  You looked forward to quenching the dryness in your mouth only to find his fingers dipped inside before you could even take a sip.  Confusion broke through your hazy mind as he plucked something out, holding it up for your inspection.  It wasn't until you glanced up at the piece of ice caught between his fingers that you caught sight of how heated hazel had grown.

 

Oh.   _ Oh _ .  Oh Chuck.  How had  _ that  _ happened?

 

That fire in his gaze headed straight between your legs and you shifted, half pressing your knees together, half adjusting your panties, their dampness causing them to cling to you.  Amber had you pinned in place, and you were unable to say or do anything as he brought the chip against the flush on your neck.

 

Your breath hitched as cold collided with your skin, caressing down along your pulse.  Goosebumps raced in its wake, your stomach fluttering as your mind struggled to keep up with the fact this was  _ actually _ happening as that cube continued slipping down, down, down…

 

That chill-kissed touch whispered even lower still, slipping over the hint of swells peeking out from beneath your shirt.  Your nipples hardened, straining against their trappings as moisture trickled slowly down between your breasts.  When the ice fully melted, his fingers continued, smearing a warm trail of wetness up along the edge of your collarbone before finally drifting away.  

 

You weren’t sure where your breath had gone, the air around you consumed by the blaze that had gold melting to malleable metal which mirrored a want as great as your own.  

 

“Better?” His voice was as smooth and sensuous as silk, and you suddenly found he’d claimed yet another of your senses.  

 

You couldn’t tell what had you more intoxicated, the alcohol or  _ him  _ but the rush you had from both was so heady it was dizzying.  Emboldened hands reached out, your fingers slipping through his belt loops where they gave a playful tug.  His brows raised, glancing down at the pants now pooled around his feet before looking back up to you. 

 

“Now it is,” you purred, slyly looking up through your lashes.  His grin became so cat-like it was fitting, considering the rabbit hole you were both about to tumble down.  He took the glass from your hand, tossing it over his shoulder and you couldn’t help but smile back.  

 

You dragged yourself back by your elbows, almost stumbling in your rush to get started.  His movements, on the other hand, were deliberate, the slow crawl toward you reminding you of how a lion stalked its prey.  He was proud, graceful, and the look in his eyes was positively predatory.  It was a vivid reminder of what he truly was and that little whisper of danger that was woven into his presence had a thrill racing down your spine.

 

“You like dangerous things?” He murmured, moving up the length of your body until he hovered directly over you.  The tension between you stretched tauter before finally snapping, exploding in a shockwave of electricity that skittered across your skin.

 

“Because I  _ am  _ dangerous,” he warned, face dipping closer until you felt the warmth of his breath curling over your lips.  “I give people what they deserve,” his lips fluttered briefly over yours, ghosting down along your jaw until they grazed along the edge of your ear.  “And after all the wicked things you made me listen to, you, my dear, deserve to be  _ fucked _ .”

 

The sparks that ricocheted from his words had wildfires igniting beneath your skin.  You couldn’t wait any longer, fingers carding through his hair, desperate tips dragging his mouth to yours and down to claim  _ him _ .  He took a moment to get a feel for you, allowing you to take the initial lead, but it wasn’t long before he was wresting control back from you, tongue sliding insistently along the seam of your mouth before diving inside.  

 

He tasted exactly as you imagined, like lingering sweets and divinity, your own little piece of heaven dusted with sugar and it was yours for the taking.  You weren't in the mood to savor it, however.  Not with the need building beneath your fingertips as they glided over his bare skin.  

 

You couldn't get enough of the feel of him, of the way muscles tightened beneath your touch, at how the simple caresses seemed to spur him on.  

 

You needed more, fingers digging insistently into his hips as you drew them against you.  Another shockwave echoed through your stomach at the hardness he rubbed against you.  You dipped the tips of your fingers beneath the edge of silk, hands splaying across his lower back before sliding fully under to grab him.  

 

Sweet Jesus even his ass was nice and firm.  

 

“Like that?”  He murmured, pride touching lips in a smile that ghosted along your neck.  

 

What you’d really like was to level the playing field because you were far too overdressed for the occasion.  

 

He snapped and that dissonance of fire and ice washed over you again as you suddenly found yourself in only your undergarments.  He drew back, gold gleaming as he drank in the sight of you.  

 

“I can’t help but feel like it’s my birthday now,” he said with an appreciative hum.

 

The blush that crept across your face had nothing to do with your yearning.  Shyness overlaid desire as you worried your lower lip, and suddenly the look on his face morphed into something warmer but equally as pleasing.  His head dipped down, teeth relieving yours of your lower lip and the way he nibbled had  _ your _ appreciation catching in your throat.  

 

He didn’t linger long, mouth leaving to blaze a trail down your neck.  Lips and tongue licked and lavished as tips of fingers took their own journey, learning every sensitive spot there was to find as he explored every inch of newfound skin.   Your head fell back against the bed and closing your eyes you became lost in his ministrations.  

 

When his hands finally found your breasts, your entire body gave a tremor, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive nubs straining through thin fabric.  You moaned, the pleasure rippling through you at such a simple touch and it wasn't going to take much before fireworks would be making an appearance.  

 

His palms smoothed over soft swells before drifting higher, gliding straps down from your shoulders before dipping behind your back.  Deft fingers made quick work unhooking it as you simultaneously slipped yourself free.  He sent the article soaring over his shoulder as his mouth eagerly moved to take its place.  Hands reached back up to cup you together, his lips and tongue alternating between pebbled peaks.  

 

You couldn’t think straight anymore, vaguely aware of the mewling noises you were making, one hand fisting through the sheets as the other kept a firm grip over his hair.  You were too busy steadily climbing, your hips rocking against his in an attempt to gain some friction.  

 

One of his hands released you, skimming down the length of you sending heated goosebumps blossoming in its wake.  He raised up, a knee nudging between yours and you eagerly spread your legs for him.  Fingers found their way to your thigh, drifting closer and closer to where you needed to be touched, matching your ascent up that blissful peak.  You shuddered as his knuckle finally edged over your panties, pushing it through thin fabric between your folds before dragging it higher.  

 

“So wet for me already.”  The praise in his tone nearly had you careening over that edge, but it was his thumb that gave you the final push you needed.  It grazed over that sensitive bundle of nerves, a hum of energy reaching what he couldn't through your clothing.  The gentle burst he released had your body singing in a rush of euphoria so sweet it felt as if you were lifting straight off the mattress.

 

It took you a few moments to come back down, your eyes blinking lazily as the world remained a little fuzzy around the edges.  

 

“Happy birthday,” he murmured, mouth lazily moving along your inner thigh, tongue dipping along the indent where it joined your hips before moving to the other side.  “What other gifts does the birthday girl desire?”

 

As his mouth neared your sex again he snapped his fingers, the confines of your underwear suddenly disappearing. 

 

“Perhaps something down here could use a little more attention?”  His mouth moved over your mound, tongue dipping down one side of your folds, and you shuddered as he arced back up before running down the other side.  You couldn’t believe this was happening.  You were still coming down from one orgasm when he was eager to get you started on another.  

 

This was turning out to be one of the best birthday’s ever.  

 

Heat began to gather again, pooling in your core as his tongue grazed over your entrance, lapping gently at the juices gathering there.  Your head sank back against the mattress and it was everything you could do to keep your hips from bucking against his gentle ministrations.  He was teasing you, that tantalizing tongue dancing in and out of you, exploring every fold and crease until your breath turned to ragged gasps and you were almost shaking with the need for him to do something other than just taste you.  

  
Finally he glided higher, your anticipating peaking as he slowly made his way to that sensitive spot craving his attention.  Electricity arced through your body as he circled your clit, dragging a low, satisfying moan from your mouth.  His tongue changed up its movements, pressure softening and increasing until there was a combination that had your whimpers growing to a keen and you felt yourself melting away stroke by blissful stroke.  

 

You gasped as he slipped a finger inside you, easing it in and out.  A second finger soon joined and they curled, tapping against that wonderful spot inside you and causing that band of desire to tighten further.  

 

“ _ Fuck _ , Gabe,” you panted, wanting more of him, against you, inside of you.  “Need you.”

 

From the groan that rumbled through him you would have thought you were the one going down on him. Gold flashed up, glimmering so intensely they positively glowed.

 

“Say it again,” his voice was rough with a want that bordered on pleading.  His tongue returned at a more insistent pace.  

 

“Need you,” your last word rose with question, a little caught off guard.

 

He grunted, head shaking. 

 

“Gabe,” you realized.  He moaned his approval, the vibration carrying straight from his lips onto yours and causing your hips to buck against him.  It had been a slip of the tongue, the nickname leaping to life effortlessly despite the fact that you’d never used it before.  Knowing what it did to him, you couldn’t help but say it again, loving the way it spurred on his excitement.  

 

“Oh fuck _ , _ Gabe…” You grabbed the back of his head, pressing him closer to you as his tongue picked up tempo.  The heat between your legs intensified, coiling round and round inside of you.  Your toes curled, body giving a stretch as it reached yet again for that dizzying peak of pleasure.  His name became the cadence to a beat you had no control over as you climaxed again, the freefall you entered so consuming it had your body succumbing to a dizzying rush that had your eyes slipping shut. 

 

They were still closed when his lips fell over yours, giving you heated, open-mouth kisses.  The taste of you on his tongue was heady as was the feeling of his tip rubbing along your entrance.  There was an almost wild need as he pushed into you, his mouth muffling your moans as hips gave a few sharp thrusts before he had buried himself to the hilt.  The sudden stretch of your walls was as surprising as it was splendid, and you weren’t certain you had ever felt this full.

 

You could tell he was trying to give you time to adjust, his rocks starting gently.  As his mouth left yours to move down, however, you couldn’t help but say his name again.  You felt too good not to, and the moment that button was pushed his last bit of resolve crumbled.  

 

His thrusts turned hard, needy, and the way he roughly dragged himself across your walls had your nails raking across his back.  You didn’t think you could get any more drunk this evening, but you were and it was solely on him and the sudden switch from attentive to demanding.  

 

It was exhilarating, the rawness with which he moved, the way his hands roamed over your body, like there wasn’t enough of you for him to touch and never could be.  His palms settled on your breasts, grip possessive, as those honeyed depths flared bright with dominance in a way that clearly roared  _ mine _ .  

That look alone had lightning striking your center, splintering into a collection of electrical currents that skittered across your nerve endings.  It wasn’t just the thrilling feeling of danger, though.  As his lips came down at your pulse, the teeth that tugged were sharper as they left their mark, but the lap of his tongue that followed was soothing; an echo of tender thought that reflected in his gaze.  It was hard to spot, but it was there, so tightly woven with the more primal aspects of his being, you had no doubt it was just as much a part of him.  

 

Without thinking you reached up, cupping his cheek and as you held his stare it was by far the most intimate thing you had ever done with him.  His tempo diminished, that burning brightness retreating and for a moment you worried you had done something wrong.  He leaned down, mouth capturing yours in a few careful, almost fragile kisses before he rested his forehead against yours.  

 

“You feel amazing,” he breathed, eyes slipping shut as he seemed to be savoring the slow and sensual way he now moved inside you.  “ _ You’re  _ so father damn amazing I don’t -- I don’t deserve this.”  

 

The confession that tumbled from his lips had your world lurching to a halt and it was all you could do to hang on to him to prevent yourself from being thrown clear off it.  You drew him flush against you, his warmth and sweat mingling with yours as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You had to will your heart to restart again as the realization sank in that  _ he felt the same. _

 

Your hand trailed up his spine, landing at the curls at the nape of his neck; you gave them a few tender strokes before whispering, “You deserve this…” You paused, allowing him time to take in your words before you reminded, “And I believe I deserve to be fucked.”

 

A chuckle rumbled through his chest and his teeth nipped playfully at your ear.  “As you wish, princess.”

 

He raised up, sitting back on his haunches as his hands smoothed over the tops of your thighs before grabbing you from behind the knees.  He brought them to his shoulders, tentatively easing himself in and out as he tested the new position.

 

“Ready?”  His brow raised, that glow returning to gold and, along with your anticipation, it stole your breath

 

You wriggled your hips.  “Been ready.”

 

He drew back, slamming into you full force, sending you sliding precariously close to the headboard.  Your cry was as sharp as it was loud, and you were very thankful for your friends’ absence this evening since they would have undoubtedly missed the pleasure in it and really rounded out the definition of  _ surprise _ for all of you.  Gabriel, however, didn’t miss a thing, eyes flashing with pride as he repeated the movement, earning another loud, encouraging sound.  

 

He picked up the pace, hips rocking with such force the entire bed began to move.  Your headboard began to thump against the wall, and you reached up, holding onto the wooden bars to steady it and you.  As your collective moans mingled with creaking of wood you couldn’t imagine anything feeling any better than this.  

 

A warm tingle ghosted over your shoulders, cascading across across your breasts in an unexpected rush that had your eyes growing wide.  It covered the entire length of your torso before forking, one current sweeping upwards and smoothing over your chest as the other dipped between your legs to circle your clit.  Your body arched, the combination of sensations electrifying and sending jolts of heated pleasure straight through you.  

 

“Fu -  _ fu-uck, _ what --” your mind fumbled to connect itself with your mouth.

 

“Welcome to sex with an angel, sweetheart,” he panted and his magic intensified until your whole being was blissfully buzzing.  It was almost too much, pushing you to the edge of a precipice higher than you’d ever been.  

 

You didn’t know what was even coming out of your mouth anymore, only that culminated in a fevered shout of his name as your walls began to shudder around him.  Everything blinked out of existence save him, your body singing in a symphony of sweet notes as you clenched tightly around him.  His hips stuttered in response, a growl rising from his chest as he gave a few final thrusts, before burying himself as deep as he could go.  His weight fell forward as he pulsed within you, and you let down your legs so that he could fold on top of you.  

 

For a few seconds, the only sound was of your ragged breaths as you both came down from your highs.  You couldn’t see him, his face buried in the crook of your neck, your hair fluttering from his pants.  Your hand came up, idly stroking the back of his head.  

 

That might have been the best birthday gift you’d ever received. 

 

He pulled out of you, the sudden loss almost making you ache as he rolled onto his side.  He remained pressed against you, however, as he propped his head up on an elbow.  He smiled widely, and you could almost taste his pride as it swelled through the air as his gaze drifted down the length of you.  

 

“What’s that look for?” You asked, shyness creeping in beneath his lingering stare.  

 

“Just admiring my work,” he said, smugness soaring.  “And I’d say it was a job well done considering how ravished you look.”

 

You rolled toward him, hand splaying against his chest.  His heart still beat a little fast, his breaths still a little uneven.  By the flush and sweat across his skin and the way his hair was mussed, you’d say you’d done a pretty good job yourself.

 

He reached out, fingers tucking errant strands behind your ears before following the line of your jaw.  They hooked beneath your chin, gently grasping as he gave you a lingering look.

 

“You’re still the birthday princess for another hour,” he murmured, pausing to give you a few slow, lazy kisses.  “Is there anything else you’d like or should we call it a night?”

 

You leaned back, eyes roaming over all those edges and dips along that divine body of his.  Suddenly you had an idea.

 

“You ever heard of the game ‘Hide the Honey’?” You asked, giving him a wicked smile.

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
